


Surprises

by LegolasLovely



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Artist Kíli, Comfort, Cop Fíli, Drinking, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/pseuds/LegolasLovely
Summary: For most of his life, Fíli didn’t like surprises and did his best to avoid them. Then he met someone who taught him to savor both giving and receiving anything unexpected.
Relationships: Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	Surprises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PatchworkIdeas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkIdeas/gifts).



Fíli never liked surprises. It’s not that he couldn’t handle any unexpected thing that was thrown at him with tact, it was just that he never enjoyed spectacles or too much effort or attention. His coworkers down at the station learned that about him the hard way when, after painstakingly planning and decorating a lovely surprise party for their newest and most dependable recruit, the birthday boy himself didn’t even show up for the celebration. It wasn’t until the next day they all learned Fíli had taken the day off from work to fish at the lake where the only birthday phone call he answered with more than a text was the one from his mother. 

For most of his life, Fíli didn’t like surprises and did his best to avoid them. Then he met someone who taught him to savor both giving and receiving anything unexpected.

***

## September

Was he really this predictable? Fíli sat on his usual stool that was left open for him in the busy bar. Already there waiting for him was a cooled glass of the same lager he always ordered. He clearly had to change up his routine. _After_ he drank his beer.

He took a sip, licked the foam from his mustache and as he went to set it on the ring already sunk into the coaster, his arm was jostled. The man who caused a splash quickly apologized.

“S’okay,” Fíli said.

It took him less than a minute to size the stranger up. Six feet, mid-twenties, broad shoulders, though not as broad as his own. The man waved to the bartender, lean yet strong muscle leaving a thick shadow over the bar. He was fit, probably a runner. Not a weightlifter like Fíli, who was in the gym every morning before his shift despite his hatred of getting out of bed any time before 10am. 

“Can I just get a…” the man trailed off as the bartender walked by, not even stopping to glance at the stranger in his bar. The man gave his head an entertained shake, freeing a stray curl that bounced over the center of his forehead, just above wide winged brows that were as dark as his eyes. Eyes that Fíli had barely gotten a glimpse of until they landed on him. They were glittering and not just with the old lights above the bar.

“Busy in here,” he said, running a hand through his hair that did nothing to restrain the leaping lock.

“Bartender takes care of his regulars first,” Fíli said with a shrug.

“Ah. Now that you say it, I think I read that in the handbook somewhere.”

He’s funny. Fíli shifted in his seat, turning to the side. Someone in this bar should welcome the stranger, why not him? Wasn’t it his duty? “Let me buy you a drink? I might have better luck with the bartender.”

Those dark brows shot up, uncovering a brighter, fresh looking face that had Fíli rethinking his age estimate. “Yeah. Sure,” the man said. He pointed over his shoulder. “I’m driving tonight so I’m just drinking soda. Uh, a Coke?”

“You’re a good friend,” Fíli said, hint of a smile peeking through his thick beard that he hoped hadn’t been soaked in beer foam. 

He pulled his eyes from the man and yelled for the bartender. “Dwalin! Can I get a Coke?”

“With what in it?” Dwalin yelled.

The stranger laughed, a higher pitch than Fíli thought would come out of him, but it was heart gripping all the same. “Uh, Ice?”

When the glass landed on the bar, Dwalin asked Fíli if he wanted another beer but Fíli shook his head.

“Why not? You’re off duty aren’t ya?”

“Of course I am,” Fíli said.

“Then I’ll getcha another.”

“No, no. Here,” he said, digging cash out of his wallet. 

Dwalin scooted away and snapped the towel from over his shoulder at Fíli’s hand. “Nah! Nah, nah. Save it, kid. On the house.”

Fíli slid the soda to the man by his side and waited until Dwalin was busy with another customer before shoving a twenty into the tip jar. 

“Thanks for the drink,” the man said .

“Fíli.”

“Yeah?” He scoffed. “Small world. My friends call me Kíli.”

The crowd seemed to settle and Dwalin’s Saturday night playlist easily descended to true background music as they talked, trading stories and small pieces of personal information. There was no prodding involved, it was just comfortable. Fíli couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a person’s presence more.

Kíli asked “off duty from what?” which launched the conversation of their individual careers. Fíli was waiting for the side eyed look he usually received when he let it out that he was a cop, but Kíli only smiled. He thanked him for his service. Fíli almost fell off his stool.

Kíli was an artist. When he mentioned he’d taught six classes at the college that day, Fíli stood, insisting Kíli take his chair. Only then had he noticed how crowded the bar had grown.

“No, please,” Kíli said. “I don’t want to take your seat.”

“You’re not taking anything. Sit.” But Fíli backtracked, leaving an escape path wide open. “If you want. Don’t let me keep you from your friends.” 

But Kíli sat. “I’m fine here.”

Even sitting, he was _big_. Fíli was not the kind to shrink from anyone or anything, but next to Kíli, his confidence and airs (an occupational hazard and necessity) deflated. Every coherent thought melted and simmered to _god, he’s pretty_. No one had ever affected Fíli this way and each time he straightened his shoulders or shifted on his feet and tried to expand, Kíli would smile and Fíli decided that maybe it was all right to be _affected_.

Kíli was chatty in an endearing and engaging manner. He had walked into the bar a stranger and now Fíli knew him better than some of the cops he’d met ten years ago. Kíli had recently moved from across the country. He had graduated from the college and fallen in love with the town, so when his parents passed away a few months ago, as a single child, he sold the house and moved back to his second home as he always wanted to. In an old but cozy house this time, instead of a dingy dorm. He started teaching painting lessons and in no time was hired as a professor in the arts department of the college. Dreams fulfilled.

He had an artist’s hands. Thin but strong, calloused around the fingertips from brushes and tools and pencils. The veins and tendons popped as his hands waved, never sitting still as he spoke. He was mesmerizing, a moving painting that changed colors and concentrations as the night passed, customers left, and last call was announced. 

Someone behind them hollered Kíli’s name, but it was followed by shushing and giggling. Fíli turned around to see a tall red haired woman whispering loudly for all to hear. 

“He’s at the bar! Leave him alone, he’s with that hot guy.”

One of Kíli’s kinetic hands finally stilled over his eyes, rubbing his furrowed, unbelieving brow. Fíli knew his own cheeks were turning red, but he couldn’t give it another thought as Kíli looked up and grinned at him.

It was a thing of beauty really, reaching his eyes, smooshing them into glowing little slits with round cheeks and a heart shaped chin that curved his lips into the sweetest, smallest triangle.

“My friends…”

“Are having fun,” Fíli said. He sighed. The night had gone quicker than he’d wanted it to. “Will I see you here again?”

Kíli hopped off the stool. “Take my number and you can be sure of it.”

He watched Kíli type into his phone. Fíli had rules. He never kissed on a first date, he never kissed at the bar his boss frequented, he barely kissed in public at all, but this man made him want to change every rule he knew. Even the laws of gravity seemed to be changing because when Kíli gave his phone back and his hand lingered there, Fíli was sure he was floating. He wanted to kiss this man so badly his chest swelled with it, his mind swam in it, his fingers tingled with it, and then the decision was taken out of his hands. 

Kíli kissed his cheek. Just beside his lips. It was quick and unexpected but Fíli’s skin burned with Kíli’s touch long after he’d winked, said goodbye, and led his friends out of the bar. 

***

##  **October**

To say that Kíli was excited was an understatement. He was buzzing, trembling, _vibrating_ in anticipation of Fíli’s arrival. He had only been in town for a little over a month when he met Fíli in Dwalin’s bar and it had taken longer than expected for Kíli to unpack from the big move and make his apartment suitable for visitors. Fíli often said, “I don’t care if it’s messy, I want to see your place,” with a very persuading kiss, but Kíli wanted everything to be perfect the first time Fíli came over for dinner.

Which is why Kíli had spent a good chunk of his week and paycheck preparing for this meal. Coaxing Fíli’s favorite recipes out of him- something that should have been sweet and easy and fun, turned into what Kíli imagined yanking hundred year old tree roots from winter turf would be like. And though he welcomed the chance to search through cookbooks and shop for the ripest, most delicious ingredients at the various markets, it all took time. But Kíli didn’t mind. This was important to him and he truly enjoyed pampering Fíli. The man wasn’t spoiled very often.

Kíli was sitting on the floor, staring into the clear oven window when his phone rang. 

“Fíli, it’s five of seven and I know you don’t talk on the phone while you’re driving which means you’re either on my doorstep or you haven’t left yet and it better be the former because if you’re late I will drink this entire bottle of wine without you.”

“I’m on my way, Kíli. I’m sorry, work… work held me up a bit. I’m getting in the car now. Do you need anything else from the store? Want me to stop for anything?”

“If you stop somewhere I’m going to drink both of these bottles by myself.”

“That would be entertaining.”

“Fíli.”

“I’m on my way. Ten minutes.”

Kíli slid his phone onto the counter and stirred the bubbling sauce, tasting it one more time to make sure it was perfect. He gathered a pinch of salt, held it over the pot, then flicked it all into the sink, unused.

“It’s fine,” he said to himself. “It’s _fine_.”

He heard the rumble of Fíli’s car a few minutes later and pulled the top few buttons of his favorite shirt open. Fíli would never say it out loud, but Kíli knew the black curls that traveled up his neck from his chest drove the man wild. Kíli decided Fíli deserved a little shameless torture and distraction for making him wait an extra eight minutes.

The doorbell rang as he was twisting a corkscrew into the first bottle of Merlot. “It’s open!” he yelled.

It didn’t take long for arms to wrap around his waist and a grumbling to sound in his ear. “Stop leaving your door unlocked,” Fíli growled.

“Yes sir,” Kíli said in time with the pop of the cork.

“Something smells good.”

“Wait until you taste it,” Kíli said. “I ate so much of this as I cooked it- for tasting reasons- and honestly, I don’t even think there’s enough here for you.” He turned around in Fíli’s arms and almost dropped the full glass in his hands. “Fíli.”

Fíli took the wine out of Kíli’s hand and put it on the counter out of reach. He let Kíli stare.

The bruise around his eye reached up over his brow and down to his cheekbone. It seemed to grow darker by the moment, as if every wince of pain and pity turned his blood black. One soft, blue, undeserving iris was surrounded by red clouds.

“What happened?”

“I’m all right. I got called in for a domestic and I took a hit while cuffing the guy.”

Kíli didn’t speak, only stared while his grip on Fíli tightened.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I had to do some paperwork.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Only then did Kíli realize Fíli was still in his uniform. He’d seen the dark blue before, cinching and gaping in all the right places, suiting Fíli beyond measure, but now Kíli despised every inch of it. 

“I’ll grab something for you to wear-”

“I brought clothes,” Fíli said. “I’ll go change.”

Kíli released him hesitantly. “First door on the right.” He clicked off the burners and the oven and shoved the cork back into the wine bottle. Instead, he carried two glasses of bourbon to the couch he’d brought from his parents’ house. Ice cubes clicked together as he laid the packed towel on the small table and sat, sinking into the well used cushion and resting his arm over the back of the couch. 

He chuckled when Fíli came down the hall in his dress shirt and pants. “I thought you were going to change into something more comfortable.”

“What, am I getting too handsome for you?” Fíli asked, smirk only reaching one side of his face.

“It’s close.”

Fíli made a show of unbuttoning the top of his shirt. 

“Getting closer,” Kíli said.

When Fíli sat, he scooted down into the couch until the old thing almost ate him whole. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t see Kíli watching him, but he could feel it. He sensed the routine emotions, the ones that come when you’re dating an officer. Constant concern that, like Kíli’s watercolors, mixed with splashes of ire and exasperation. Wonder was the crucial canvas that held it all together while remaining steady in the background. What went on in those squad cars? Would he always be safe? Always come home? Would Kíli want to stick around, stay in this budding relationship long enough to find out?

He jumped when he blindly felt Kíli’s fingers running through the ends of his hair. The towel had grown heavy and sopping from the melted ice and Kíli took it from him.

“Have I told you how great this apartment is?” Fíli asked, tilting his head to look at Kíli.

“No.” Kíli said, giving his best frown. “You came in, used my bathroom and ruined my best towel.”

Fíli laughed, soft, deep, and rumbling. Comforting. But it was brief. “Don’t forget I also ruined your dinner, our night, and everything we’ve been looking forward to.”

“Nonsense.”

“Kíli, I’m so sorry.”

Kíli scooted closer. “Don’t apologize.” He leaned down and kissed Fíli’s temple, caressing the sore spot with soft, warm lips that seemed to have their own healing powers. When he drew away, Fíli was watching him.

“You always surprise me,” he said, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Kíli who buried his face into the crook of Fíli’s neck. 

“I’m sick of being surprised,” he murmured against Fíli’s skin.

***

##  **November**

Kíli’s hand found Fíli’s as he drove home from the restaurant. The dinner had been nice- glowing candles, red wine, snobby yet over-polite waiters and dainty portions. It was clear they were both a bit out of their element in the dark, very quiet dining room. Even Kíli seemed a bit shy, but slowly, his small smiles lit their corner of the room- a beacon for Fíli to fuel and admire.

Though their meal together had been enjoyable, it was the farthest thing from Fíli’s mind as Kíli’s fingers intertwined in his. Practiced digits danced, looped, caressed, tickled, until his first finger broke loose and slid up the inside of Fíli’s thigh. Kíli’s focus remained on the road, but the very corner of his lips tweaked upwards. Soft and ever pink, surrounded by a scratch of permanent black stubble, pulled and bent, letting Fíli know their minds were on the same subject. 

They’d been dating a few weeks now. They’d talked and planned, then those plans were ruined when Fíli took a black eye at work. It was the new arrangement that led to this night. _Their_ night. Which is why Fíli held Kíli’s hand- every finger- far away from any part of his leg. His breath had already grown quick and heavy and he refused to ruin their plans once again by losing control and fucking Kíli right there in the front seat of his own car. He took a deep breath that broke and shook halfway through and rolled a thumb over Kíli’s knuckles, forcing himself to think of something else as they managed to stop at every single red light in the entire damn town. Kíli only chuckled. 

Fíli was a patient gentleman as he followed Kíli to the door and they stepped inside. However, he would never know if Kíli had planned nightcaps or coffee because as soon as the front door was locked behind them, Fíli kissed him. His fingers dove through black hair, circled the nape of Kíli’s neck, down his chest, around his waist and into his back pockets. Kíli moaned in his mouth and that was it.

He picked Kíli up and swallowed the deep growl it caused. (He’d think more about that later and revel in the fact that Kíli liked to be manhandled by him.) Kíli wrapped his limbs close around Fíli, coiling like a serpent, as if he couldn’t get close enough. As if he were trying to climb under Fíli’s own skin to share the same blood rushing heartbeat. In turn, Fíli clawed at him and balled the evil, offending shirt- the layer between them- into his fists, sucking in a sharp breath as Kíli’s already hard erection ground into his.

After mumbled directions, elbow slams and palm slaps against the walls, Fíli found the bedroom. Next step: the lamp. Fíli wanted to see. Every line, every crevice, every hair, smile, lip bite- everything that was finally allowed to be his, he wanted it. He was greedy. 

He laid Kíli on the bed, hovered over him, tore off his shirt, kissed, nipped, and traveled down the warm, gorgeous body below him. He lost himself in the swirling southern wind of desire, couldn’t cherish each precious moment as he’d dreamed of doing. It was all too fast but he rode the storm, unable to stop until he could feel and hear and see _everything_.

It was only Kíli’s gasped “Wait!” that had him sitting back on his knees thinking _Please, please don’t change your mind about us. Please don’t ask me to leave. Please-_

But his thoughts stopped completely as Kíli sat in his lap and held his face. “I want this to last,” he said. He smiled and Fíli was sure it was brighter than any light he’d seen. Kíli went on. “I’m excited too- more excited than I’ve ever been. I want to _touch_ you and _pleasure_ you.” Hands fell down Fíli’s chest and up his thighs. “But I want to take my time about it.”

In all the nights spent imagining sharing Kíli’s bed, Fili hadn’t ever thought of going slow. He could hear Kíli whining and screaming his name, begging for _more_ and _harder_. He saw strangled bed sheets tear and felt nails leaving divots in his back as reminders of uncontrolled passion. _Slow_ never crossed his mind, but now that it did, he couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

Kíli only smiled and kissed him. Slowly. Deeply. Pouring every ounce of devotion and admiration into Fíli’s body and mind with tender touch, soft lips, and warm caresses of his tongue.

“We do have all night, don’t we?” Fíli asked.

Kíli hummed against his lips. 

So they took their time. Each charted every breath, discovered tender corners, mapped wide plains and lapped at warm waters. They took all night and long into the morning before finally falling asleep after a well deserved breakfast of Fíli’s apparently famous pancakes. 

As Kíli curled into his arms and fell asleep against him, Fíli wondered if he had ever felt as loved as he did by Kíli. Kíli had watched him, eyes forever open, no matter what Fíli did. Kíli treasured every inch of his body, took him to soaring heights that left him trembling in long lean arms and reaching for soft, short kisses that never lacked emotion or affection. Had Fíli ever snorted with laughter while _inside_ someone? Definitely not. But he wanted to do it again with Kíli. Always with Kíli.

***

##  **April**

It didn’t take long for Fíli to learn how much Kíli loved the unexpected. Their second date was Fíli’s plan and as soon as he casually said the location of their night was a surprise, Kíli erupted like pecans in a food processor. His wide eyes shone in the headlights from across the street as they took note of every street sign. Despite his best intentions, he asked nosy questions like “How long will it take to get there?” and “Will I need my jacket? Are we even going inside?” and when Fíli played the game and said, “I’m not telling you,” Kíli only grinned as if that in itself was a hint. That amount of fidgeting and finger tapping and ankle crossing may have been annoying to anyone else, but Fíli found it extremely endearing. And on the drive home, Fíli was already thinking of other things that would exercise Kíli’s excitement and curiosity.

This surprise, however, was a big one. It was a big step, a big decision. But the best part about it, the part that made Fíli push ahead with this plan in the first place, was that Kíli was completely unsuspecting. Completely.

“Isn’t your spring break coming up next month?” Fíli asked late one morning after pouring his third cup of coffee. “Do you have any plans?”

Kíli hummed while he thought. “Nnnno. Not really. I was going to clean up some paintings and frame them for the collection at the college at the end of the semester.”

“Landscapes?”

“Some of them,” Kíli said, distracted, not seeing Fíli’s point. 

“How would you feel about adding some beach landscapes to your selection?”

A slow, but wide grin- wider than any horizon Kíli had ever painted- stretched over his face. “I could do that.”

“Good.” Fíli turned, clicking off the coffee pot and pulling the mug to his lips to hide his smile. He wasn’t at all shocked when he felt Kíli’s arms wrap around his waist, as comfortable and snug as an old sweatshirt.

“Wouldn’t you rather a cabin in the woods?” Kíli asked, running his cool nose up the crook of Fíli’s shoulder to his ear. It was well mapped territory. “I could also paint landscapes of the lake.”

“You love the beach.”

Kíli hummed and Fíli could feel his chest reverberating against his back. He leaned into it. 

“But you love the quiet,” Kíli said. “Cool nights under cozy blankets…. Crisp mornings watching the fog lift from the lake…” His hands were wandering.

“I also love the beach when you are wearing nothing but a very small swimsuit.”

“Then I’ll go buy an even _smaller_ one,” Kíli said, pushing and pulling and grabbing all the right places because he loved his surprises that much.

The new swimsuit Kíli bought for their vacation was indeed smaller than any he had ever owned and Fíli couldn’t decide if he appreciated how the other beach goers admired what was his or if he hated the jealousy it brought out in him. Either way, Kíli basked in Fíli’s gaze always and he made sure any feelings of envy were washed away with the tide.

Kíli truly catered to Fíli’s needs while they were away, meaning the only time he wore a shirt was when some kind of dress code mandated it. They didn’t spend a lot of time in restaurants for that reason. Instead, they went to the store, sandals clapping against the tile floor and Kíli wrapped up in Fíli’s warmest but also saltiest sweatshirt, shopping for sandwich supplies and cheesy pretzels, iced teas and beer. 

After the first day, Fíli bought a beach umbrella the size of their car because he didn’t care if Kíli only tanned and never burned, he wanted to enjoy Kíli’s semi nakedness without worrying about his health. He’d also purchased an untold number of sunscreen bottles to empty and massage into Kíli’s skin multiple times a day. It was hard work rubbing the white out of a dark chest pelt, up over muscled shoulders, down a tapered waist, around a furry belly, and down thick legs. It was a burden only Fíli could bear. Kíli felt well taken care of and made sure Fíli never noticed the cans of _spray_ sunblock at the store.

Their third day on the coast, Kíli managed to drag Fíli from the bed and out to the beach for the sunrise. The early hour benefits outweighed Fíli’s grumbling: they escaped the crowds, the parking passes, and the heat, able to simply cherish each other’s company as they sat with their toes in the surf and their arms around one another. As the morning went on, sleepiness transferred from one man to the other and Fíli was able to get his revenge on his morning loving lover. He pulled Kíli through the sand, diving into the frigid high tide, giggling, splashing, and shoving until Kíli’s cold fingers stroked Fíli’s beard and pulled them face to face. That was the moment Fíli decided he loved Kíli’s salty kisses the best.

The sun flew across the sky that day and clocked out early like it too was on vacation. Tourists left and there were still a few hours before the night beachcombers would arrive. Similar to that morning, Fíli and Kíli had the beach to themselves and they used the public privacy to curl into each other under their now unneeded umbrella. 

Fíli rolled over top of his love. White specks of sand made Kíli’s curls even thicker and the salt water left the tresses heavy between Fíli’s fingers. A soft, content hum escaped the one beneath him and his heart swelled. He tried to tell Kíli how much he loved him. _I want to share every moment of life with only you. You’ve enriched my life from the moment we met in that bar and I’ve been drunk on you ever since. You turned a lonely and alone man into someone loved and cherished and worth your time. You are so important, you are everything._

“I love you so much,” was all that came out.

Kíli’s thumb rolled over his cheek and tried to dislodge the clear line of tears that seemed stuck in blue eyes that matched the day lit sky. Fíli always welled up from toe to crown when he tried to tell Kíli how much he loved him.

“I know,” Kíli said. “I love you too, Fíli.”

***

##  **August**

Fíli drove too fast to Kíli’s apartment. He’d texted, he’d called, and yet he’d heard nothing from Kíli all day. Usually Kíli would shoot back messages fairly quickly, writing something on the spot to make Fíli smile or laugh or even blush and shift in his chair enough for his partner to ask who he was talking to. Kíli would always answer when Fíli called, picking up on the second or third ring no matter what he was doing in case Fíli needed him. Today, every line of communication went unanswered. 

When Fíli pulled in the driveway he could see the low light from the lamp in the front room through the curtains that Fíli had helped Kíli pick out last year. Other than that square of yellow, the rest of the house was dark. He took the chance that Kíli was still awake and though he had a key to the house, he knocked on the door.

He listened. No tv, no music, but soon footsteps. Kíli answered the door, half full glass in hand and waving around. 

“Oh. Hey.” He walked back into the house, leaving Fíli in the doorway.

“Hey. You didn’t answer your phone all day so I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He locked the door behind him, but Kíli was still standing in the middle of the room with his back to Fíli as if he wasn’t there.

Fíli was fit to burst. The words were on the tip of his tongue: _Why haven’t you answered my calls? You couldn’t have even said ‘talk to you later, I’m busy?’ Do you know how worried I was? I thought something was wrong!_

But as Fíli watched Kíli, unmoving, fingers hooked around the top of the glass, shoulders hunched like he’d never seen them, it was clear that something _was_ wrong. 

Fíli’s hand found the small of Kíli’s back, the little divot made just for that purpose, and Kíli turned and blinked sluggish and heavy lidded eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “You want something to drink? S’on the counter,” he said, waving his glass and spilling a splash on the floor. “Shit.”

“I got it,” Fíli said. “You wanna sit?”

He watched Kíli fall into the oversized easy chair in the corner of the room. It rocked and creaked, not used to being sat in. Whenever Fíli was over, the two would pile on the couch so they could tangle their limbs and fill each other’s space and share everything. Now Kíli sat alone in the chair and nothing could be shared. 

Fíli wiped up the liquid that almost burned the inside of his nose and threw the towel on the small table. By then, Kíli had leaned forward onto his thighs, holding his head in his hands. 

“This is a new spot for you,” Fíli said, settling on his knees below Kíli on the floor.

A grin spread across Kíli’s face that pushed his eyes closed. “Not for you though.” He pulled Fíli’s hands to his thighs and leaned down to kiss him. The half empty bottle on the counter was enough to tell Fíli his boyfriend was sloshed, but it was the taste of him that let Fíli know it hadn’t been the first bottle opened. He could get tipsy himself from just _kissing_ Kíli. 

A word made its way between them and disrupted their embrace.

“Mee-mm- need a new couch.”

Fíli glanced at the perfectly good piece of furniture he’d spent plenty of time in. “You think so?”

“It’s too old. Doesn’t match any of the other furniture.”

“I can take you shopping this weekend.”

At the mention of actually following through with his plan, Kíli turned to the offending couch with a threatening glare. The plush cushions sat pitifully like a dog saved from the shelter who had peed on the floor and chewed the bed while left alone.

“I’m just sorry I spent all that money driving it across the country.”

“It’s still in good condition,” Fíli said. “You could sell it and make the money back. College students are always looking for good sofas.”

Fíli would talk about this fucking couch until Kíli finally came out with what was really bothering him. He knew every one of Kíli’s emotions even better than his own, and right now, he knew just because Kíli had a cover over his passion, didn’t mean the fire wasn’t still raging underneath. Fíli knew he only had to wait. He watched the deep brown eyes he’d fallen in love with grow laser focused, staring without seeing.

A thick thumb dragging over a knee was what blew the cover off the inferno and added gas.

“I fucked up, Fíli. I _fucked_ it all up. I shouldn’t have sold the house. What kind of person sells their parents’ house a month after they die? But I couldn’t _look_ at it anymore and now I can’t go see it even if I wanted to because someone else lives there now! And all I brought with me were some photo albums and this fucking couch! I want it gone! I wanna fucking burn it but I look at it and half of me sees my family, watching movies and eating dinner and talking about me coming here to go to school and the other half of me sees you and all the time we’ve spent here.”

All of Kíli’s strength and energy flew out on his words and he slumped to the floor, falling into Fíli’s arms that were ready to catch him. Fíli pulled him into his lap. As his lover’s chest heaved and hiccuped and his hot tears slid down into the hollows of Fíli’s neck, Fíli let his own tears fall. His job was to protect people, most importantly, to protect Kíli. He thought he’d been doing well, but he couldn’t exactly keep grief in custody.

“And I don’t want to be a teacher!” Kíli pulled his face from the crook of Fíli’s neck, revealing his pink cheeks and swollen eyes. He rubbed his nose on his sleeve. “I don’t want to be a fucking professor, I want to _paint_. I don’t want to teach five classes a day and have office hours and be too exhausted to come home and make something for myself. I want to _go_ to classes and be as inspired as my students are-” His breath caught in his chest as more tears flew down his face. Fíli caught them with his thumbs, swiping them away- blending and shading as Kíli taught him as if he could turn Kíli’s pain into something more beautiful and comforting. It didn’t work.

“You’ll call tomorrow,” Fíli said. “Reduce the number of classes you’re teaching, have fewer office hours. It’s still summer, you have time to make these changes before the new semester starts. Hey,” he whispered, making Kíli look at him. “We’re in this together. We’ll fix everything that needs to be fixed.”

Kíli relaxed in his arms. The drink had been washed from his eyes and they once again focused in on Fíli. “You are all I have. I want you to move in here. With me.”

Fíli thought of the key he just had the hardware store make. He thought of the dinner reservations for this weekend when _he_ was going to ask _Kíli_ to move in with him. 

“My dream was to move back here and paint. But even when I have the time for my art, there’s still something missing. It’s you. I want you here with me. All the time, I want you to move in.”

Fíli nodded, running his fingers through black curls. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

They did talk about it and Fíli found a guy from work who needed a place to stay and was glad to take over the remainder of Fíli’s lease. That weekend, he moved his stuff in, crowding his favorite books and old CDs into Kíli’s endless bookshelves, piling plates he’s had since college into the cabinets, figuring out which side of the closet belonged to whom and watching Kíli struggle to donate some of the shirts Fíli had never once seen him wear. When the bed was covered in boxes and bags, they made love on the floor, too impatient to move piles of clothes, but never too impatient to tease one another and make each other scream. Kíli said that the neighbors would have to get used to the more frequent noise.

Sunday afternoon, Fíli took Kíli furniture shopping, but they came back to their home empty handed. They weren’t able to find a couch that was as comfortable and perfectly worn in as the one they already had. No new sofa in the warehouse smelled of Kíli and the beer he’d spilled on his seventeenth birthday and the blanket Fíli brought from his apartment and the clean sweat that had managed to sink down deep into the cushion from many rounds of vigorous, furniture creaking, lube leaking sex. That was their couch and would be for a very long time.

***

After a year spent together, Kíli still surprised Fíli every day. Sometimes it was as small as making the perfect cup of coffee in the morning. But the one thing that never bewildered Fíli was how his ardent love for the painting stranger from the bar seemed to grow with every moment they shared together.


End file.
